


It's Not So Difficult

by haveyouseenmyuser



Series: It's Not So Difficult [1]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Louis POV, M/M, kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-10
Updated: 2017-09-10
Packaged: 2018-12-26 03:58:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,751
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12050817
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/haveyouseenmyuser/pseuds/haveyouseenmyuser
Summary: The time when Harry eating a cheese sandwich had mutated into Harry making out with Louis, and Louis pushing Harry up against the refrigerator, laughing into the kiss even as he gripped at Harry’s hips, searching out skin.The time when the alcohol had made it seem spectacularly easy to pull Harry over to the couch, and easy to pull Harry on top of him, and easy to take Harry’s hand, and move it to where Louis had wanted it to be, all of a sudden.//Here, have a smutty one-shot. Not a new series, or anything like that. I was just seeing if I could write sex without having to build myself a veritable fortress of plot to hide behind. Larry. NSFW. Entirely untrue.





	It's Not So Difficult

London is fucking  _ cold. _

And dreary. Louis has never had call to use that word, but dreary is the only appropriate thing to describe what is happening outside of the taxi cab window. It’s raining, and gloomy in the dusk, and everyone that he can see looks like they just got informed that their cat died from complications linked to a kidney infection.

So like he says. Dreary.

What isn’t dreary is how he is feeling. Louis feels… like he’s still flying. Like he’s going to turn inside out. Like his organs are doing the conga.

He can’t identify whether this feeling is a good one or a bad one, but it is definitely a  _ lot _ of one.

This is the first time that he’s seen Harry since… that other time. The time when all five of them spent a day together stockpiling footage for interviews and fan mentions and they recorded someone’s birthday video and a heap of other stuff, and then some friends came over and then just seemed to keep on drinking.

That time when Louis had stayed the night, and had wandered out into the kitchen, too hazy to sleep, and had found Harry in there, making a cheese sandwich, because what else does that boy do?

The time when Harry eating a cheese sandwich had mutated into Harry making out with Louis, and Louis pushing Harry up against the refrigerator, laughing into the kiss even as he gripped at Harry’s hips, searching out skin.

The time when the alcohol had made it seem spectacularly easy to pull Harry over to the couch, and easy to pull Harry on top of him, and easy to take Harry’s hand, and move it to where Louis had wanted it to be, all of a sudden.

It was probably Harry, not the alcohol, which had made it really easy for Louis to cum, hard and tight with Harry’s fingers around him, but nevertheless, alcohol was certainly present.

So yeah. That time. And then Louis had to leave early in the morning, head ringing, and Niall had been in the kitchen, blearily trying to find something to eat, so Louis hadn’t said anything to Harry.

And then they’d had a busy few days, and then Harry had flown off home to London and all in all nothing had been said.

Maybe nothing needed to be said.

Louis doesn’t know.

They’d drunkenly hooked up, and then decided to not talk about it.

Is that a thing that people do?

It’s not as though they aren’t talking to each other. Or avoiding each other. Or awkward. All of the electronic communication feels the same. It’s just… Louis thinks that he’ll have to say something. At some point.

Something like  _ hey, all the making out was fun, let’s do that again some time. _

Or,  _ great job on the whole making me cum thing, turns out I’m into that. _

Or maybe,  _ this time, I think I want to fuck you, if its all the same to you. _

Louis bites his lip, to not start laughing at himself, because if he knows anything about Harry it is that boy needs mental processing time, and so maybe just turning up and saying one of those well thought through lines will just cause his brain to shut down.

But that’s the thing. He is just turning up.

And sure, this has been planned for ages, and Harry has been staying at a mutual friend’s house in London for nearly a week now, and it was always a possibility that Louis would come to spend a couple of days here too.

But now it feels a lot like Louis is just turning up, all ready to declare to the world  _ hey so um the sex was actually pretty good, let’s look into that some more, shall we? _

And people think romance is dead.

…

Louis gets through the hellos, and the  _ hiiii _ s, and the hugs, and the grins, well enough. And then he’s being shown to his room, and oh shit, he didn’t even think of this, but of course. All houses back home are tiny.

“So, if it is okay, you and Harry are sharing? Unless you want the settee downstairs, but it is frankly a complete arse to try and get any sleep on, whereas this room has a double bed, as you can see. And I thought that you and Harry have probably slept in worse.”

Louis shrugs, and puts his bag down on the corner of the bed, before removing the Harry clutter that covers almost all of his side of the bed, and dumping it on the floor.

“It’ll be great. Thank you. Harry is used to me trying to smother him in his sleep because of how bad he snores.”

Harry flips him off, grinning, just behind their host’s shoulder, and then steps into the room, reclaiming his stuff from the floor.

“You love it Louis, don’t even try and pretend otherwise…”

Louis raises his eyebrows in protest, but then has to engage in conversation again.

“So, tea will be ready in about half an hour? I’ll let you get sorted, let me know if you need anything.”

“Okay, sure. Thanks!”

Harry just grins at him, and then Louis finds that he is just grinning back, and even though he is really tired, he is also just really  _ awake _ . So he steps over to Harry, not sure what he is planning on doing, and only faintly disappointed when he realizes that it is a hug, that his body was going for.

Harry relaxes into him after a second, and sighs slightly.

“I missed you.”

Louis grins, unseen, and then nods.

“Me too.”

The hug probably lasts for a second too long, and when Louis steps back he knows that he is blushing. Harry clears his throat, awkwardly.

“So, um, are we okay? I mean, we haven’t really spoken about… are we okay? There’s no problems?”

Louis shrugs, because no, there are no problems, barring the fact that he’s suddenly remembering really vividly how good the sex was, and half an hour is not going to be long enough to test out the theory that he and Harry should be doing more of that kind of activity.

“No, there are no problems.”

Harry grins, and looks relieved, rubbing at the back of his neck, where Louis can just imagine putting his hands, and pulling him in closer, and  _ good lord,  _ what is even happening in his head right now?

Fuck it. He can always blame a lack of sleep.

“I want to do it again.”

Harry looks at him, blinks, and then holds a hand out to the wall, steadying himself, as though his universe just did a barrel roll.

“What?”

Louis shrugs, looking down at the blanket and biting his lip.

“Well, I umm, I really enjoyed it, and I got the impression that you enjoyed it, and why the fuck not, really? Why not?”

Maybe this  _ is  _ a parallel universe after all, because Harry gulps at him for a couple of seconds, and then shrugs back at him.

“Um…okay. Though, maybe not right now.”

Louis shakes his head.

“Oh, no. I’m hungry, so…”

Harry laughs at him, and then blinks, looking at Louis as if he might hold all the answers, and well. Who knows? Maybe he does.

…

They make it through the evening, somehow.

Louis doesn’t know if he is just projecting, because he certainly is feeling completely strung out, but Harry looks distracted. And laughs easily. And can’t quite look at Louis, as if looking too directly will result in there being a problem.

Louis finds himself hoping that Harry is turned on.

He doesn’t really know where all is this coming from, but he hopes he knows where it is going.

He catches herself nudging his foot over to Harry’s, underneath the dining room table, and this time Harry does look at him, for one steady second, before looking away, and  _ fuck. _ Louis is blushing hard, and maybe it is for the best if Harry doesn’t look at him at all tonight, because the others are bound to spot, surely?

Six thirty is probably too early to claim jet lag exhaustion. He can’t go to bed yet, no matter how much he just wants to be in a room alone with Harry, with a door that can be closed and time to themselves.

So instead he closes his eyes, and breathes out slowly for a second, trying to remember where he is, and who he is.

When Louis opens his eyes, Harry is staring right at him again, and Louis can swear that he can feel his heart change gear, just for the moment.

And maybe that’s the best way to approach this.

It’s not so difficult.

…

Just in case Louis had forgotten that he is back in Britain, there’s now a programme on the television about tea loafs, which is being watched with some intensity by everyone in the room. Louis tries to concentrate, because god knows there must be something more impressive happening here than just bread making to merit this kind of focus, and maybe he’s missed a subtlety because he’s distracted.

Nope. Just loaf making. With a brass band score in the background. Okay.

Harry is sitting next to him, on the couch, and next to him in a way that is literally right next to him, his thigh neatly aligned with his, and not an inch to spare. Louis doesn’t know what to do about this, other than request a larger couch, next time, and so just sighs restlessly.

Harry seems to notice, because he places a palm flat, on his own leg. But the outer edge of Harry’s hand, from wrist to pinkie tip, is now resting on the jean covered warmth of Louis' thigh, and it really shouldn’t be making Louis this unable to function, but it really does.

Harry clears his throat, and Louis can tell that he is feeling it too, and he really needs to leave, or he’s going to be climbing on top of Harry, regardless of the audience.

Although the potential audience seem pretty into this baking show.

Maybe he could… no. No.

“Guys, I’m going to go to bed, thanks for the dinner.”

…

He spends about fifteen minutes getting into bed, ten of which involve him staring at himself in the mirror, and wondering whether he has completely lost his mind.

Louis feels like he is operating using the kind of faulty logic he uses when he hasn’t had sex in months, but it has only been… ten days. Tops. Since the Harry couch incident.

And he still really wants this.

And… a thing can be over-thought, maybe.

So he gets into bed.

And maybe he should try and fall asleep. That may be the sensible thing to do.

But that isn’t going to happen.

…

Harry comes up after what feels like forever, but is probably only as long as it takes for the inexplicable baking program to finish.

Louis lies very still, as Harry moves around the room quietly, and this isn’t how passion starts, Louis thinks. Passion should start with the two of them falling through the door, already half undressed. It shouldn’t start with Harry trying to quietly change into his sleep clothes, as Louis agonizes over whether he should acknowledge that he is still awake.

He should have been waiting on the edge of the bed, maybe. In… underwear? Is that a thing that happens? Louis doesn’t think he is actually capable of that. And what the hell is wrong with him?

Louis can hardly suddenly go from apparent unconsciousness to lingerie model in a split second, and  _ goddamn _ he doesn’t know what he was thinking, why did he even get into bed?

Harry coughs after a moment, and then seems to laugh at himself, before whispering.

“ _ Louis? _ I think I hear you thinking.”

Louis feels like he is coming up for air, the sigh he lets out. He then snorts and rolls his head sideways into the pillow, hiding his face from the bedside light.

“Oh my god… I feel like I’m going crazy.”

Harry laughs at him, and then Louis can feel the comforter moving, as Harry gets into bed, and fuck, this still feels awkward, but at least he is laughing now.

Harry is giggling too, and this is stupid. Louis sighs, and turns onto his side, facing Harry.

“Did I ruin it? With my stupidity?”

Harry breathes out for a second, and just looks at Louis, and Louis feels it all come surging back, and bites at his lip in anticipation.

“I doubt it, to be honest.”

It’s then, when Louis sees the corners of Harry’s mouth start to curl into a smile, that he pushes towards him, and kisses him.

…

The kissing is gentle, and Louis can feel himself drifting, as if he is gradually forgetting everything other than the fact that this is Harry, that this feels  _ good. _

He’s hard and turned on. Louis knows he is, because he can feel the way his body wants to press even tighter, can feel the urge to push himself forward into Harry, just to get some kind of reaction from him, some kind of attention.

Harry bites on his lower lip, and Louis lets out a moan, soft, but probably loud enough for Harry to hear.

He feels Harry’s hands tighten briefly, on the skin at his hips, and Louis is nudging closer, trying to show Harry that he wants this, he  _ really  _ wants this.

Harry moves away from the kiss at this point, but before Louis can protest, Harry has dipped his head down to kiss at Louis' neck, just underneath his jaw, and oh, Louis can cope with  _ that. _

“I missed this.”

It’s out of his mouth before he can even think about it, but Harry stills next to him, before shifting to prop himself up on an elbow, and looking down at Louis.

“Yeah?”

For a one word question, there’s a whole lot of answering needed. Louis tries to ignore it, and presses upwards towards Harry, kissing his lips softly.

“Yeah” he breathes out, hoping it will be enough, but knowing it probably won’t, because this is Harry. Harry kisses back once, and then lies next to him again, running fingers through Louis' hair.

“Is this a thing now Louis? What’s… what’s going on?”

Louis turns away, hoping that the shadows hide his face.

“Don’t ask for answers Harry. Just… look at the evidence will you? I flew half way across the world for this.”

Harry doesn’t answer for a second, and then Louis feels an inquiring fingertip run down his arm, and can sense the gooseflesh erupting in it’s wake.

“For… lots of things, though? You flew for lots of things.”

Louis curls back into Harry, and thinks that there are many things that can answer Harry’s questions, and very few of them are words. So he takes Harry’s unresisting hand, and presses it to his groin.

“For you, Harry. I flew for you.”

…

Louis undresses himself, when Harry doesn’t seem to be taking the hint, or possibly he is trying to tease him. Louis doesn’t know. All he knows is that Harry makes a peculiar noise, something like a strangled moan, when Louis sits up, and removes his own top.

Looking down at him, Louis can see that Harry’s eyes have gone extremely wide, and he’s doing that thing where they try to look everywhere except the bare chest, even though Louis has just taken his top off for a reason, for god’s sake.

But Harry’s also frowning, and that isn’t the reaction that Louis was looking for. So he lies back down again, and presses himself close to Harry, so that Harry can actually process what is happening, rather than having some kind of out of body experience due to all the nakedness.

“Louis, what…?”

“I came back down so you could concentrate on getting whatever is happening in your head out into the real world of human conversation, rather than just having to try really hard to not look at my chest.”

“No, but how is this better because now you are pressed up against me and- okay. Okay. I’m just checking… this isn’t going to be regretted in the morning, is it? ‘Cause last time… I don’t know, we were drunk, and I was worried afterwards that…”

Louis finds himself rolling his eyes, because good god Harry uses a lot of unnecessary words sometimes. So he kisses him, and that shuts him up for the moment, and Louis feels Harry’s palms trace up his sides, and Louis pulls at his shoulders until Harry co-operates, and is lying more fully on top of him. And the pressure feels good. So so good.

So Louis kisses Harry until he thinks Harry might have forgotten his question, and then just breathes out an answer, directly onto his lips.

“Just because I was drunk doesn’t mean I regretted it. Not everything I do drunk is a mistake. And I’m not drunk now, so unless you are really bad at reading body language…”

Harry laughs gently against him, and Louis can feel him rearranging, until there is a thigh pressed between his legs, and Louis' eyes drift shut automatically.

“I’m not drunk either, for the record.”

“I don’t know Harry, watching all that baking seemed to have a funny effect on you…”

Harry laughs slightly too loud at that, and Louis ends up shushing him, because he doesn’t know how thick these walls are. Harry dips his head down and presses kisses to Louis' collar bone, before moving  _ further  _ down, and there’s a hot mouth on his hipbone, now, and oh  _ fuck. _

“Stop making me laugh, Louis, I’m trying to concentrate.”

“Jesus, you’re the one who keeps approaching this as if it some kind of panel, what’s with all the questions…?”

“Just checking that  _ this _ is okay…”

“That  _ what _ is ok- oh my  _ god _ .”

…

Harry’s hands are confident, and deft, and Louis can only try and keep up, barely hanging on to reality with the thinnest of threads, because this simultaneously feels really real and completely impossible.

Louis is determined to not just be passive this time, and so when Harry removes Louis' shorts, so that he is naked, Louis uses Harry’s pause for breath, and possibly brain function, to sit up and turn, so Harry has to retreat, until he’s lying on his back and Louis is on top of him.

“Cheater.”

Harry mumbles it, even as Louis fumbles down to remove Harry’s last item of clothing.

“Whatever, you love it…”

“That’s such a lie, I tolerate you at best- oh fuck.”

Harry’s voice changes when Louis touches his dick and Louis echoes the thought, for every time he’d imagined this, over the past week or so, he’d never considered the rush of blood to his heart. The way that all logic would go out of the window, because they’re past that.

“Harry…  _ fuck.” _

Harry whimpers slightly, and then grabs at Louis' hands, pulling both up, so Louis has to support himself on his elbows. Harry kisses blindly at his fingers for a moment, and then whispers ‘You know that I’m not going to be able to forget about this, afterwards, right? So-”

Louis could have sworn that hearts skipping a beat was just a phrase, but that doesn’t explain the extra heavy thud in his chest, the way that his body just surges forward, with the sole intent of kissing Harry really hard.

“I don’t want you to forget, are you fucking kidding me…?”

Harry moans softly, and then his hips jerk upwards. Louis can feel himself respond to the pressure, and braces his weight on his forearms, rocking forward slowly, so that Harry’s thigh gets full awareness of just how hard Louis is.

Harry swears softly, and then grips at his hips, and then is just bodies, and skin, and the feeling that maybe he’s losing his mind, with every movement.

He can’t… he’s going to…

Harry reaches for his hand, and pushes it downwards, using his free hand to fist in Louis' hair and grip.

“Louis… oh god… fuck me, will you?”

This can’t be happening, a small part of Louis' mind thinks. This isn’t real.

Until it suddenly is real, in a really real way, and oh  _ god. _

…

Harry goes down on him, afterwards, when he’s gotten his breath back, and Louis thinks that he could get used to this.

Could get used to the sensation of Harry’s mouth on him.

Could get used to the way that Harry sends a hand upwards, to rub lightly over Louis' hardened nipples, as Louis gasps and sucks in air and bites down on the back of his own hand, to avoid making too much noise.

Could get used to the way that Harry moans, even when it is Louis who is riding out the orgasm.

Could get used to the way Harry crawls upwards, and half collapses on top of him, before curling a leg over Louis' hip and pressing a kiss to his neck, before saying simply ‘You’re amazing.’

In fact, Louis thinks that he  _ wants _ to get used to this.

“Can we do this again?”

Harry stays still for a moment, and then grunts a laugh out.

“I think… I mean, I’m going to need a least a minute, before another round.”

Louis grins, and rolls his eyes, recognizing the attempt to keep things light, before nudging his head downwards to kiss at Harry’s mouth and fuck. Why hasn’t this happened sooner?

“No, I mean… ugh, you know what I mean Harry, but I’ll say it anyway. I like this. Can we keep doing it?”

Harry reaches towards Louis' face, running a soft finger down Louis' cheek and then cupping his chin, kissing him slow, as Louis' heart turns over slowly, in his chest.

“I’d like that. Good idea.”

Good idea is such a stupid phrase to say, right now, as if Louis has just suggested a new place to go eat, rather than something much more important, but maybe they don’t need to think about the important stuff, right now. Maybe all that matter is that Harry is here, and Louis is  _ here,  _ having flown back home from across the globe, and this is making Louis really happy, right now.

“Cool. I think it’s a good idea too.”

…

**Author's Note:**

> I started this and then stopped for two weeks and then started it again. See if you can spot the join!  
> In other news, I don't know what has gotten into me.


End file.
